Father's Day Aloha

It all happened rather quickly. My brother called me from his home in Maui to say that he had to come back to Seattle for some appointments. He nonchalantly asked, "Why don't you come to Maui to house sit for me?"

I thought about it for about thirty seconds, and then decided it was just what I had been looking for. I needed a place where I could just be Patty Luzzi, writer, and not have to be Patty Luzzi, wife, mom, dog caretaker, gardener, friend, planner, chauffeur, chief cook and bottle washer. For a while now, I have tried to spend time gathering a compilation of my essays, but other things always came up. It's an old story for a writer: as soon as a project takes shape, the house never looks so disheveled, and other tasks never look so inviting.

But Lenny was skeptical, and rightfully so. My sister decided to join me. She needed some time away from her normal routine to concentrate on revamping the entire program of the non-profit where she is executive director. We called it a work retreat. Ya, that's it. A work retreat. And the price was right. After airfare, our only cost is for food and gas, and theoretically we're not going to be using much gas.

I'm happy to report that we took my brother to the airport today, and now my sister is in another room of our little brother's big house working away on God only knows what. I forgot to mention that little brother has just moved in to his Wailuku dream house, and, although there are plenty of rooms, there is little more than two beds, a couple of recliners, and a makeshift desk of planks and boxes on which sits his computer. Beggars like me can't be choosers, so I have made it as ergonomically correct as possible given the building blocks, and this is where I write to you, my faithful friends. My favorite part, aside from the fact that it is so nice and tropically warm, is that I have an entire empty bathroom to myself for the first time in my life, and I'm quite sure that I am the first one to have used it.

Before we took my brother to the airport, we sat on the lanai, looking out toward the airport in Maui's central valley. The three of us shared a bowl of My Dad's Famous Clam Dip, and toasted Dad with the tasty bites. We all wondered out loud what Dad would have thought of this big house on a South Pacific island.

Although he never set foot in Maui, we all felt his presence these last few days. We realized how fortunate we are to have happy memories of a great man. Dad has been gone for almost six years. I don't know if I am thinking about him because of Father's Day, or perhaps because I'm indulging in a double dose of siblings. Either way, I still miss him.